The Syndicate
by Sakura's Face
Summary: After being attacked and left for dead, a teenage girl is taken in by a unlikely crime family who call themselves Skyrim's True Crime Syndicate. Shocking revelations from her past come forwards as she struggles to make a name for herself.


False Pretences

"For the last time lass, we can't keep you here forever." Brynjolf was pacing back and forth uncomfortably, he had been doing so for hours. "Ten years ago, twenty years ago: aye. We had plenty space then, but it's tight now. It's not that we don't appreciate what you've done for us.." He hastily gestured to his desk, surrounded by treasures. "We're just downsizing... Last in, first out and all that."

Dabria looked up from her feet, which she had been staring at intently for the past fifteen minutes. Brynjolf couldn't find it in himself to even try to look her in the eye. "I understand times are tough on the guild right now, but-"

He cut her off. "No buts. I'm sorry, I really am. I know you've brought more income than the rest of this lot put together but with Vex leaving us, and Delvin not far behind," he sighed deeply. "What you're doing alone isn't enough for us."

"What you're saying doesn't make any sense, Brynjolf." A slight smirk played on her lips as his jaw clenched. It had been a long time since anyone referred to him by name. "If you get rid of myself, nobody will be making any money for your guild here." She ran one delicate hand down the stone wall, relishing in its cold touch. Dabria was strangely composed for someone who was losing their home, their family and their entire career. "Without me being here for the past months you wouldn't have been able to stay above the water, I'm sure I could get the others to agree with me."

"Dabria this hasn't been an easy decision to make-"

"And you're making the wrong decision."

His eyes flared, it was no secret that recently she had become the most respected member of the guild. Ever since the incident with Karliah and Mercer had ended so messily. "This is the last night you can spend with us. High road, or low road lass, you can't stay here. Maybe you should try doing an honest day's work for your gold, I'm sure there's a certain house in Windhelm that could use your services. I've already spoken to my contacts there, if you head up north somebody will sort you out." He crossed his arms firmly across his chest, and looked her up and down, with an air of finality which alerted Dabria that the conversation was over.

* * *

Night fell quickly, not even an hour had passed since Dabria had filled a satchel with her meagre possessions and left the Ratway for good. It was surprisingly warm for the time of year, the warmest winter she had felt over the entirety of her nineteen long years. There was still a bite to air, nipping playfully at her exposed hands and cheeks. She pulled her dark cloak tighter as she prepared to head west, towards Pinepeak Cavern. She had few intentions of heading to anywhere Brynjolf suggested; such places of ill-repute held little interest to her.

Two guards leaned against opposite watchtowers lazily, discussing the politics of the city in hushed tones until Dabria allowed the gates to thud shut behind her. Immediately they pulled themselves upright and ceased conversing, it was as if they expected someone of higher standing than a lowly peasant girl. "It's late to be going out, girly." One had a thick, Redguard accent. Uncommon for the Rift guards. "Can't think of anything that important it can't wait 'til morning."

Dabria smiled politely, waving one hand nonchalantly and dipping her head slightly. It was better to draw no attention. "Out for a midnight stroll, do not worry if I do not return." The guards shrugged before easing back into their relaxed conversation. They were as unsure of the corruption in the town as everyone else, despite working for the Jarl. "The river Treva is quite nice this time of year..." Dabria called back as she passed, before pulling up her thick, fur hood.

She walked close to the water, the path gently lit by the reflection of the stars. Very occasionally the silence was broken by the howl of a lone wolf, the wind rustling through the forest, horse's hooves beating fast and hard on the path behind her. Dabria glanced to the water by her side, using it to see the scene behind her. Two riders, well dressed with thick black travelling cloaks, each brandishing swords which glinted in the moonlight. Dabria had slowed to a gentle stroll, and found it no surprise when the horsemen pulled alongside her. Despite their covered faces she knew exactly where they were from.

"Brynjolf did was Windhelm didn't he? You don't look like a stupid one." Tall and broad-shouldered with the unmistakable native accent, a peep of blonde hair on his forehead confirmed her thoughts.

"What do you want, is it not too warm down here for you northern lot?" Her hand snuck to her right hip, where her blade was primed and ready.

"Don't even think about drawing a weapon, wench." The second was slimmer, unmistakably Dunmer. "We own you, remember? It's unwise to threaten your new masters, don't worry though. You'll have plenty time to learn some respect when you come with us." They began to dismount in sync, weapons outstretched threateningly.

"Own me? I own myself." Dabria spat at their feet, pulling her own sword from its scabbard.

"We paid Brynjolf quite a hefty sum of gold for someone like you: a young, supple virgin. Still plenty of fight in ya as well."

Her cheeks burned red as her blood boiled and it became apparent why Brynjolf had been intent on her leaving that night. "I was never Brynjolf's to trade." It came out louder than intended, anger causing a slight lack of control. "No matter how many septims you gave him, you have no chance of taking me without a fight." She held her sword strong and firm, right hand glowing as she tainted the blade with a hint of magic.

The screeching of metal on metal filled the air as the three done battle. Dabria span backwards, sword gripped tightly in both hands as she fended off a strong swing from one as the other cut round her side. She kicked out, feeling a satisfying crunch as her boot hit off of the elf's knee. He fell back, calling on his partner to do the same. "I'm not going to be defeated by some little girl, Aren. I'm not as pathetic as you."

"Well, He should've sent the Orsmer instead of us then. Shouldn't he?" The elf, Aren, grimaced as he shouted back at his accomplice. Dabria stood strong, a playful smirk danced across her lips. "She's better than we were warned Arvid. There's no shame in admitting defeat."

Arvid snorted angrily, in his eyes admitting defeat would never be considered humble. He raised his arms and smashed downwards, catching Dabria off guard. Quickly, she turned and threw out her sword arm, slashing wildly into his side. The riverbank was quickly stained with blood as both man and girl retreated. "We'll call it even this time, wench. But next time you come with us, no questions."

"I would not be so fast to call two armed men ambushing one girl an even match." She kept her blade outstretched, thought now it wavered as she spoke. Her cloak was slick with blood pouring from the gash in her shoulder, her teeth clenched with pain. She made eye contact with the bandits as they carefully rode off, stifling a painful laugh as the elf squirmed in his saddle.

Pinepeak Cavern had once been the home of a family of mountain bears, who met an untimely demise after Dabria discovered the remains of some adventurers alongside a pouch filled with gemstones. She kept a small firepit, just large enough to cook on and heat the small cave, with two thick, bearskin sleeping mats alongside. The second had never come in use, but it was there for anyone who might find themselves in need of somewhere to stay a night. Luckily, the cave was just a few hundred yards upriver from where Dabria had found herself injured. But even those steps were filled with pain. She fell down onto one of the skins and carefully removed her cloak, inspecting the damage. Blood tricked down her arm, she grimaced slightly before snapping some sparks into the fire pit. The sun was low in the sky, it was dawn. Having spent the previous night without sleep, Dabria was exhausted. She sank down onto the fur, ignoring the sticky dampness and unmistakable copper scent. Sending silent prayers, she fell into an uneasy sleep.

* * *

"-cause Iter said it had to be us. Don't be ungrateful, we've been over this. I'm more than capable of killing anyone who comes in our way."

"Clearly the old man has no idea of how to pick people who work together. This is why he should leave it to the heads to decide who works with who. You can't just kill everybody that gets in the way, Astrid. Anyway, I don't need anybody to look after me."

"My dear Vex, you have so much to lear-"

"Blood."

"Well, yes. There's usually blood involved with my line of work but there's no reason to interrupt your senior with such a remark."

Vex scoffed, "You're as much my senior as you are an Orc." She jabbed towards her feet. "We're standing on blood, if you care to pay attention to your surroundings. Have some special awareness, perhaps less people would need to die at your hand."

Astrid huffed, finally admitting defeat. One hand poised over her blade as the duo carefully made their way along the riverbank, following the trail of blood. The entrance to Pinepeak was well disguised beneath a thick layer of vines and leaves. The wooden door was off its hinges at the bottom and smashed lantern lay on the ground.

"Whatcha reckon, any decent loot left after the fight?" Vex's eyes shone as she smiled greedily at the thought of it. Other people could do all the work and she could just take whatever treasures they found back. No work, plenty reward.

"Only one way to find out, sister." Previous disputes forgotten Astrid silently snuck into the doorway. There was a short path leading to the single room where Dabria lay, beside the glowing embers of what had been her fire. Vex followed behind, equally as silent, as they made their short way to the centre of the cave. Instantly, they saw the blood.

Vex stumbled back, the shock setting her on tilt. Astrid found it difficult to hold back a laugh. "Our little Vexy can't handle a little bit of blood?" She rolled her eyes, before drawing herself to her full height and walking towards the body. She pressed two fingers against Dabria's throat. "Still alive, barely. May as well just…" Astrid trailed off, running two gloved fingers over the edge of her blade.

"It's Dabria." Despite the stillness about the cave, Vex still barely managed a whisper. "She's in the Guild, she was in the Guild anyway. You can't kill her."

Astrid raised one eye brow questioningly, before sheathing her knife. "Fine, are you suggesting you have a health poultice on you, because otherwise she'll be dead by nightfall anyway."

"We need to take her with us. She's exactly what their looking for. Young, healthy… well, other than the obvious." Vex made an offhand gesture towards Dabria; her breathing was shallow, her skin was pale and glistening with sweat. "She's a better thief than Brynjolf ever gave her credit for, I'm sure we could interest her in your line of work as well."

"On your own head then, you know how they feel about us bringing any old sorts into the Deep." Astrid shrugged, and began checking the chest in the back corner. "And I'm not helping you carry her either."


End file.
